


Help Me Piss

by ReduxCath



Category: Klaus (2019)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Body Hair, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Drinking Piss, Implications of Jesper being a slut since high school, Lightly dubcon but just at the start, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Piss Play, Pissember, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReduxCath/pseuds/ReduxCath
Summary: Mogens has dragged Jesper around the dark town of Smeerensburg, showing him the bars on each side of town. Jesper's fine being pulled around by the older man, but he's been having trouble. You see, alchohol made in Smeerensburg shoots through the body very quickly.At one point, Jesper can't help it, and goes into the bathroom.
Relationships: Jesper Johanssen/Mogens
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Help Me Piss

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea since September but I just now have the time to really write it. It's *probably* fine to use the Pissember tag

Bars, like every place in Smeerensburg, are segregated based on clan.

And Mogens swore, up and down, that there were differences between the two. Fine little quirks in their furnishings, their atmospheres. Individual little ticks that hinted at the rich tapestry of history of the Krums and the Ellingboes, different interpretations of the same general concepts. “Smeerensburg, at the very least, makes sure that you never get bored with alcohol.” He had said, chest puffed out and fingers twirling in the air in an attempt to mimic an actual expert.

But Jesper was sure that that had probably been complete bull, designed to lure him out of the safety of his post office and into the terror that was the town’s seedier districts (and just so that everyone’s clear on everything, the whole town of Smeerensburg was seedy to begin with).

The adults of Smeerensburg spent most of their time squeezing daily activities in between small bouts against their enemy clan. Care for the baby and throw a soiled diaper at the house in front, cook for the children and pack the bad parts of the meal into a bowl in an attempt to poison someone else’s dog (the dogs in Smeerensburg had all long-since developed stomachs of steel), make love to your spouse in front of where the enemy could see it from their window in strategic times to catch them out of passion and off guard. Jesper wasn’t sure how these people carried on such complex and bitter rivalries with one another while still making their town a (barely) functional municipality. If they applied half of the energy they spent hating each other into actually working— _no, no, stop that_. The more he saw these man-children squabble, the more he felt himself being sucked up into his father’s nagging persona, and Jesper would absolutely not have that.

Maybe that’s why he went out with Mogens. The man was nothing like his father and was a completely new (and _neutral_ , most importantly) element in his life. He was the wrench to throw biological determinism’s cruel schemes out the window, not that he was educated enough to know what biological determinism was (but Jesper knew, because Jesper had gone through the top boarding school in the country, passing classes either through merit or through ‘extra-curricular’ means that no one needed to know about).

And it seemed like accepting this trip with Mogens had proved useful for his private analysis of the town, because these people were humans after all, and humans needed to wind down somehow.

And so, the Krums and the Ellingboes, who hated everything the other did with a burning passion, had both historically preferred alcohol consumption as the main activity of diversion for grown men. Mostly men, some women were the types to hang around places like this—but it really was mostly men. A sausage fest if Jesper ever saw one.

“Can you taste the flavor differences, my little prince? The fine, nigh-imperceptible tweaks of aromas?” Mogens said, being extra flowery with his shot and making the Krum men that had deigned to sit with them snicker. Mogens was a regular in both sides of town, somehow able to keep peace as he donated generously to the drinking establishments of both parties.

“It’s a shot.” Jesper grumbled. Then, watching a man with a big neck and a bushy beard glare at him, he sat up straight and stammered. “A-A-And of _course_ , the Krum family’s Jack Daniels is _so_ much more elegant and refined than the, uh, the _swill_ of those dirty Ellingboes.” He really sold it, complete with a shake of his fist and everything.

“Yeah, yeah, says the man who delivers letters to both sides.” One of them said, jeering at Jesper. The man had long, thick fingers, and Jesper had remembered seeing the shadow of those fingers only yesterday as he had snuck back up the man’s chimney right after placing the toy in a place his daughter would find it. At night, he’d been terrified of those fingers snapping his neck, but in the warm light of the Krum tavern, they didn’t look _too_ threatening. In fact, the small dusting of hair on the joints was attractive, reminding Jesper of many an older fellow back home who had massaged his shoulders, twisted his nipples and parted his lips nervously with a thumb.

Now, Jesper was a thinner man for his age group, and he had always preferred to resolve his problems with softer touches (money or otherwise). At first, he had been completely out of his element in this town, taking shit from everyone and everything that crossed his path. But a couple weeks in Smeerensburg had helped him find his footing, and Jesper presently scoffed, rolled his eyes. “When I get letters from the Ellingboes, I’m simply taking their hard-earned cash.”

“And what about _our_ letters, eh?”

“Oh, for the Krum? I’m performing my _solemn duty_ as a man _dedicated_ to the art of—” And he couldn’t hold it anymore. The whole table broke down in laughter, and Jesper privately slapped himself a high-5, because he was slick with his tongue 100 different ways. Oh yeah, baby.

Mogens had been taking him bar-hopping for the past two hours, zooming between different bars, sometimes on the same side of town, sometimes on the other. It was fun, running around like a moron with a man almost twice as big as he was, especially because these saps were so separated that all his material effectively had twice the uses. Mogens had heard that same joke about taking money about 10 different times now, and Jesper was sure the man no longer found it funny. But he laughed anyway, guffawing and downing his shot like a pro.

His eyes were trained on the other patrons, his smirk mean, and _ah,_ so that was what he liked to make fun of.

Kind of a douche, but Jesper had had worse company. And in Smeerensburg, Mogens was a man of the highest honor when compared to most everybody else.

So it was fine.

Jesper continued to drink. Lightly. Back home, with his silk sheets and lace under his pajamas, he had loved to get shitfaced and passed around bar after bar, friend’s home after friend’s home. Because it had been his city and he’d been his father’s soon, and no one could fuck with him any more than he let them, even when out of his mind. But in Smeerensburg, he was a nobody, and the thought of getting his gorgeous nose broken in because of something Drunk Jesper did was…not appealing in the slightest.

Just one more year, and Drunk Jesper could come out again to party.

But for now, he should stay asleep.

With Drunk Jesper sleeping, Lightly Buzzed Jesper could look at his surroundings. Maybe it had something to do with seeing the inside of a person’s home, but he could recognize most of these people, in both halves of town. Red hair, black hair, didn’t matter. He could guess, maybe 8 times out of 10, what their living room and house arrangement was like. He had always been a quick study, despite his lack of appearance at being smart. Why bother trying if As were easy to get? All you had to do was speed-read (or, in some cases, speed caress and wiggle a couple of bills at your teacher’s face).

With his powers of study, he observed Mogens. By now he knew his shape fairly well, could map it out in his head. If he lost the fat and hit the gym (or, in Smeerensburg, hit the ice saw), Jesper was sure that Mogens could pass for the twin brother of one of the admirals of the Royal Postal Academy. What was that guy’s name? Rudolf? Krauss? Bjron. Whatever. Either way, Mogens’ height allowed him to carry his extra weight well, and despite his lack of education, the man had mastered a smile that made people open their bottles to him much more easily. Maybe he had developed it to try and survive in this place. Maybe he had already learned how to manipulate people before coming to Smeerensburg. Whatever the case, the man was a walking honeypot, complete with sarcasm, a sharp tongue, and an eye for fuck-ups.

If he were more fit, he could be like that man back in the Academy. Broad shouldered, square jawed, and just rough enough to make Jesper shoot a precious load onto his sheets early in the morning.

The only bad thing about his height was that he could drink _so much._

Jesper had been excusing himself periodically between bars to go into darker areas with thicker snow. He estimated that he’d pissed in around 4 different corners of Smeerensburg already, but he couldn’t help it! Smeerensbergian (mouthful) alcohol just went right through his system. Mogens didn’t seem to have that issue. Just went from bar to bar, sober as a newborn, bladder set and secure. It was _agonizing_ to keep up with him.

Finally, Jesper couldn’t help himself. “Sorry, fellas, excuse me a moment?”

The bathroom of the bar wasn’t hard to find. A disinterested bartender flicked his grimy finger, and Jesper had followed the direction until he saw the sign, and walked in, scowling. One thing Jesper knew from his time of loud and decadent parties was that some places, you just didn’t go to the bathroom in. Some places just weren’t up to code, even in the Capital. You manned up, held your piss, and either dashed to a nicer-looking bar or restaurant or sneaked behind to piss on their dirty walls. And his cultivated sense of direction had told him, from the first moments when Mogens had shown him around Smeerensburg, that the _whole town_ was not up to snuff.

But that was fine, wasn’t it, Jesper? You’ve already conquered the shitty little outhouse in your post office. Now it barely makes you shudder. You can piss here. It’s alright.

And so, he stared at the dirty bathroom, badly lit and with bad scents, bit the inside of his lip, and manned up. Walked over to the urinal—the _cleanest_ looking one, please—good. Took his position, unzipped his pants, grabbed—

“Yo.” He flinched. Jesper turned and saw Mogens waving to him, his nose wrinkling just slightly before walking in and standing right next to him, his large arms pressing into Jesper’s side slightly. “You couldn’t have gone outside? Yous were fine doing it before.”

“Not everyone has a bladder like yours.” Jesper grumbled, took out his dick.

Mogens did a similar movement. “Heh, yeah they don’t.” And he heard a hot sound stream down next to him while Mogens sighed, shivered in delight. “Fuuuuuuck yeah….”

The look Mogens had on his face was ecstatic, almost sleepy, and Jesper snickered. “Is that the face you make when you orgasm?”

“Maybe. You can find out if you want.” Mogens joked, cutting his stream short and wiggling his cock at Jesper.

“Eugh!!” He smacked the larger man, and chuckling, snuck a peek…

…a peek that went on for a long time.

“What the heck?” He breathed.

Mogens smirked, proud as his heavy cock flopped around for a moment, foreskin wet and shiny, before he turned back and finished pissing. “It’s only just slightly chubbed, too.”

“Like hell.” Jesper hissed.

“Naw. True as heck.” Mogens nodded, adjusting his scarf around his neck. “You thought the old boatman didn’t have anything up his sleeve?” He wiggled his eyebrows, laughing like the lecher he was.

“Fucking bullshit…” Jesper murmured, because his cock wasn’t anywhere near as big, and he had privately been thinking that a man as fat and as drunk as Mogens couldn’t possibly have a good tool. But _noooo_ , Mogens had to be packing heat like a motherfucker, didn’t he? Like only the most muscular postmen and dignitaries.

Ugh.

And then…silence.

Silence.

“You done?” Jesper asked, tired of glaring at the dirty tile in front of him.

“Naw. I still got some.” Mogens said, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Then what—”

“You ain’t started.”

Jesper blinked. Blushed, and stammered for a moment. What the fuck was happening? Oh God, Mogens was trying to fuck with him with their dicks out, wasn’t he? He sighed, thought about how not to resign himself to his fate. “I…I can’t piss when someone else is looking.”

“I ain’t lookin’.”

“Yeah you are.”

“No, I ain’t.”

“What are you looking at, then?”

“Your face. Cuz I’m talkin’ to you.”

Oh, so he had _manners_ on top of everything else? Wonderful. “W-well, fuck off with that. I need to pee and you’re not making it easy for me.” Jesper groaned, his dick was straining with his shyness.

Mogens didn’t say anything for a second.

Then he withdrew.

Jesper sighed, felt the sweet release of his piss start to flow, the warmth of the liquid rising up and—

He felt a large mass behind him, and two heavy hands on his shoulders. His piss stopped again. “M-Mogens!!” He tried to turn around. “W-What the fuck—”

“Shut up. You’re such a pansy, you know that?” Mogens grumbled into Jesper’s ear as he leaned forward and looked down at Jesper’s dick. Jesper closed his eyes, face hot, and he thought he could _hear_ Mogens smile. “You’re awfully excited for being in a place as dirty as this.”

“Fuck off.” He whined.

“And wait a decade for you to piss? No thank you, princess.” Mogens retorted, and Jesper felt his hand on his stomach, stroking the fabric of his clothes. “You’re gonna learn to piss like a man, so help me God.”

Jesper opened his mouth, stammered uselessly, flailed his arms for a moment before shaking his head. “How the hell is _this_ gonna help?”

“You like men, don’t ya? Just lemme work my magic.”

“I don’t—” Jesper shook his head more vigorously now, cock throbbing. “I don’t—pfff, whaat??? No way. Mogens, come on, _me_ , like _men—”_ He looked down at his dick, at Mogens grabbing it and jerking it slightly, and shuddered. “T-T-That’s just a perfectly natural reaction. Happens to _everyone.”_

“Aye. Yer right about that part.” Mogens spoke low into his ear, his stubbly chin grazing Jesper’s neck. “But getting’ doe-eyed at all the men in bars don’t happen to everyone, now do it?”

Jesper froze right when Mogens pulled back his foreskin and exposed his head. “I-I-I—” He felt something poking him in his butt, and relaxed a little, then tensed for a different reason. “I’m not that obvious…” He protested uselessly.

Mogens smirked. “Not obvious? I’ve been watching you swoon after the big, burly Krums and the strong, muscular Ellingboes all night.” With every adjective, Mogens swiveled his hand a little and rubbed his chin right into the crook of Jesper’s neck, the stubble scratching and making the younger man twitch each and every time. “Admit it. You like men.”

“I don’t like men, alright? I—” In his daze, because a big strong man was holding his cock hostage, Jesper swallowed his spit. “H-How about you? Don’t you think holding onto another man’s cock is a bit gay?”

“I’m bisexual.” Mogens said, fully confident and easy. “This boat takes both teams of passengers, hehehe.”

_Oh god, he’s bisexual. He’s just like me. And he’s open about it._

Mogens snickered while Jesper blushed, sighed, and leaned back. “Come on, man. It’s hard. No one _gets_ it.”

“ _I_ get it.” Mogens assured him, warm and husky and just a little gentle against his ear and around his body as his hand travelled lower and lower, grabbing the him of Jesper’s sweater. “What I don’t get is why you can’t fucking piss.”

“I…” Jesper remembered school. When a handsome boy hand winked at him, shown him his cock while pissing, and Jesper had reached out, curious and naïve. It had taken a call by the kid to make Jesper straighten up and freeze to avoid the bullies’ roaming eyes, pretending to be completely preoccupied with his business. Maybe it had been since then? He wasn’t sure. “I don’t _know_ , man. I just, I just get nervous, alright?” Jesper was the kind of guy that made sure his gold-plated door was locked every time he went into the bathroom. Bathroom time was a good and private time, and why did people not understand that?

“Seems kind of pussy-like for a poastman to give a shit about stuff like that.” Mogens mused, his left hand reaching Jesper’s pubes and stroking them, while his first hand stroked Jesper’s hard cock and made it leak. “Just relax. Mogens is gonna help you out, alright?”

“H-How?” Jesper mewled as his knees began to shake from the attention.

“Shhh, shhhh…” Mogens shushed him by licking— _oh my god, oh my god_ —at his neck. His left hand went back up, pushing Jesper’s sweater and shirt up, up, up, until his skin was revealed right up to the top of his stomach. With that large hand, Mogens stroked Jesper’s stomach, making the bite of the cold turn to a syrup-like warmth in his veins. “Just relax.” He repeated.

“Mogens…” Jesper gasped out, the inside of his mouth slick with saliva.

“Yeah?”

“Are you drunk?”

Mogens thought for a while before planting a kiss on Jesper’s cheek. “A little. Yous?”

“A-A little.”

“Hmmm.” Mogens nodded, kept stroking Jesper’s stomach and kissing his cheek. “Just breathe, boy.”

Boy.

A few drops of piss escaped from Jesper’s urethra, and he gasped at the sensation. “You like that?” Mogens said huskily, his hard cock rubbing in between Jesper’s legs. “Want me to keep calling you boy?”

Jesper mewled, and suddenly Mogens’ right hand stopped holding his dick, went to hold back Jesper’s right hand instead. Uselessly hanging there, the fingers curled as Jesper’s cock stopped leaking. “F-Fuck…” His wrist felt like a twig inside of Mogens’ grasp, and Jesper felt almost too slender overall.

“Shhh, you’re being loud as hell.” Mogens whispered. Jesper suddenly became aware that they were in a public place, and he strained for a moment. Mogens held him securely. “Don’t make a fuss. We’re just pissin’. Nothin’ else.”

“M-Mogens, wait a second.” He stammered, bladder straining. “What if someone comes in? What if—”

“Does it really look like I give a damn about that?”

Jesper closed his eyes, remembered the way that he would flirt with older members of the Postman Brigade. Older men, with defined beards and moustaches, hands weathered from long years delivering packages and letters, strong arms and chests from experience carrying important cargo. Getting out of training wasn’t hard. One just needed to use their hands, their mouth, their knees, and even the most intrepid and rule-protecting senior postman would be grabbing the back of his head or the sides of his hips and thrusting in and out, nervous twitches here and there. Or maybe they’d jack _him_ off, make him nut under their weathered pads, with a couple of fatherly digits up his ass. But they always had this look on their face like they were about to get caught red-handed, or a bit of guilt whenever he pushed them down into a mattress and giggled with glee at how nice they looked, shiny with sweat.

_L-Lord Johansen, you’re a handsome man. Really, I’m so flattered. But…don’t you think you should stop? Take life more seriously?_

 _Hell no!_ He’d laugh, and suck them off so good they’d forget about all responsibility for a moment and beg him to engulf them with his hole, guilt making their hands grip at him just right.

It was…fun. Holding so much power over men who really should’ve known better than to breed their boss’s slut of a son.

But Mogens wasn’t beholden to the Post Office.

He wasn’t beholden to anyone.

Jesper then felt his nobody status in Smeerensburg in a whole new way, in a whole new light. The men in the bars didn’t give a shit about who he was. They could touch him the same way, without any worry or risk of being fired slowing their movements or dampening their words. Just like Mogens. The thought got Jesper hot.

“Focus.” Mogens commanded, and Jesper squirmed deliciously. “If you piss,” Mogens smiled into Jesper’s ear, lickng the cartilage and making it warm. “I’ll fuck you silly in the stalls.”

“W-What if someone comes in?” He asked again.

Mogens kept licking, bit at his ear lobe and growled. “Then I guess yer gonna be takin’ more than one cock tonight. Does my boy want that?” He purred, pressing on Jesper’s stomach. On top of Jesper’s bladder.

“I—” Jesper’s knees locked, he felt some drool escape his lips. “I—”

Mogens’ hot, fat rod was pulsing in the area between his legs, and the older man nipped at his cheeks with his teeth. “Shhhhh. Close your eyes.”

“B-But—”

“I got you.”

…Jesper closed his eyes, felt Mogens squeeze down on his bladder, massaging the muscle.

The warmth was immediate. Hot piss began to flow from Jesper’s bladder, out of his cock, and against the grimy ceramic of the bathroom. Warm steam flowed up and hit their noses, and Mogens breathed it in. He mewled—until Mogens covered his lips with his own and stuck his fat tongue inside of his mouth, then he just gagged and made muffled sounds of need. Higher and higher in pitch, drool coming out of the edge of their kiss, then lower, softer moans, because his piss stream was shrinking, slowing down. The pressure of his bladder was easing up, and it was draining so much of the strength of his muscles, Jesper might as well have been a virgin.

Jesper heard the drops. Heard them change a little, and knew he was dripping onto his shoes.

But he didn’t care.

The moment Mogens let him go, Jesper whipped around and kissed him roughly, roughly, like a brat, until Mogens choked him a little and grabbed his ass. Jesper separated from him with a wet sound, and looked down at Mogens’ throbbing cock. “I—I want—”

“You want daddy’s cock?” Mogens gave him a smile so handsome and so full of lust, Jesper felt _wet_.

He barely had time to nod before Mogens let him go, and he quickly fell down onto his knees on the dirty floor, boatman cock in front of his flushed face.

Jesper had sucked a lot of cock in his life. Dicks of every shape and hue. But they had all been rich men, or powerful men, or men with dignity of hard-earned offices. Men his father would have, under different circumstances and a different pairing of sexes, have been proud to let him marry. But Jesper had always been rebellious, had always sought the moans of throats too low to bear him any children. And he’d thought that was fine. Women were alright, but men? They commanded armies, directed other, weaker men to their posts, and no matter how nervous they were about their jobs or about him, he could feel that power in their thrusts, in the way they ate him out.

But here was a cock with no social standing whatsoever.

…The thought of his father walking in and watching him whore himself out to this poor son of a bitch made the younger man blush, and Mogens winked when he saw that look on his face. “It’s all yours, babe.” He finished off his resolve with a stroke of his cheek.

Jesper moaned when he tasted a mix of sweat and sea salt, and shuddered as he reached Mogens’ pubes and took a long, deep sniff. With little fanfare and none of the softness Jesper was used to, Mogens grabbed his orange hair and made Jesper sit back, relax, and let himself be used as an impromptu sleeve for a few moments. The sounds that his throat and Mogens’ dick were making were slick, wet, and full of heat.

Full of sounds that made his cock stand at attention again.

“I got a prize for you.” Mogens smirked. “Open your mouth, stick out your tongue.”

Jesper did as he was asked of, and huffed air when Mogens placed the head of his cock, out of his thick foreskin, atop the tip of his tongue. “Good boy.” The boatman licked his lips, ruffled Jespers’ hair in a way that made him swoon. “Make sure to swallow it all.”

Jesper had been prepared for jizz. He had been ready to drink every last drop of cum and then lick his lips and beg for Mogens to take him back home and make him a proper slut.

He wasn’t prepared for the piss.

Jesper flinched when the taste of it reached his tongue, but Mogens just grabbed the back of his throat and shoved his fat cock deep down Jesper’s throat. “Nuh-uh. Commit to it. Yer here, and yer gonna see it through.” He glared at Jesper, made sure the younger man understood. When Jesper calmed down, sighed, and begged with sounds, Mogens sighed, and resumed pissing into him.

It tasted exactly like the piss from the Royal Postmaster Admiral, whatever his name was. Except with none of the nerves or the embarrassment or the promise to have a towel handy.

Jesper just drank, drank as much as he could, washing away the taste of beers and wines and spirits with something more intimate. His cock, again up, begged him for attention, and the younger man jacked himself off as Mogens shoved his cock in and out of his throat. Jesper’s nose was filled with the scent of Mogens, his pubes and his sweat and the salt that tied itself to his skin. He grabbed hungrily at his thighs, and Mogens purred. “Don’t get a throat that good from a virgin. You’ve done this before.” He said, appraising him with a hungry grin.

In his lust-filled gaze, Jesper gasped as Mogens withdrew his thick cock from his mouth. “I…I like it.” He wiped his mouth, blushed as he grabbed the sausage and lapped at the head. “I’ve always liked the taste.”

“Man…” Mogens slipped his dick back into Jesper’s throat, letting his magic on his head and lick below his foreskin. “Maybe I should’ve been a postman after all.”

Jesper didn’t have the mind to focus on that, though.

He was too busy enjoying the taste of a man who would treat him rough.

“Alright, stand up, delivery boy.”

He did so with shaky legs until Mogens grabbed him, shoved him into a stall and nearly ripped his pants down. “When you got on that boat of mine, I wanted to smash your ass into my deck so bad. You wanna keep teasin’ me with that bratty attitude, you’ll see what happens, you hear me boy?”

“Yes, yes sir, _oh—_ ” Jesper’s mouth was filled with rough fingers that pressed down on his tongue, and he sucked at these while Mogens _easily_ slid three fingers in at once.

Mogens laughed in his ear. “You’re _too_ much, I swear.”

“Shut up, shut up and fuck—”

Mogens did as he asked.

When Jesper felt that fat, veiny cock slide past his hairs and into his ass, he mewled so high that Mogens actually shushed him with urgency. “Shut _up_ , you fucking moron..!!” But he wasn’t mad, not too mad, at least. Licking at his neck and pressing down on his stomach, the older man held him as he drove his ass onto the toilet seat, sliding in and out wetly, growling and whispering things that would make Jesper’s father faint from shock—but it felt _so_ good. So good to have a strong set of arms around him, _grabbing_ past simple comfort.

“I—I can’t cum!” He whined. “Mogens—”

“Stop _whining_ , Jesper—”

He shuddered when he felt Mogens speed up suddenly and _slam_ into his ass, digging his cock deep inside as it throbbed and released its hot spunk up into his guts. “I’m gonna fuckin—all up in your stomach—”

Jesper just kept whining and mewling, sucking on Mogens’ fingers and clenching around his cock.

When Mogens slowly slid out, he was calling him all sorts of nasty things, but then he stopped when some light filled the dark stall. “Oh.”

“Well, _Mogens_.” Jesper opened his eyes, recognizing voices from his table at the tavern. “I mean, I know the kid’s a beaut, but _here?”_

“He was about to eat my ass, Sven. Couldn’t calm him down if I tried.”

Sven barked out a laugh. “Oh, _sure.”_

And then, Mogens was lifting him up, placing Jesper on top of his lap, facing him. Mogens wasn’t focused on him though. He was focused on the people outside the stall, gently stroking Jesper’s ass. “You fellas want a turn?”

“Mogens—”

“Unless _you_ don’t want to, baby cakes.” The boatman said, tugging at Jesper’s spent dick.

Jesper turned his head, felt his ass twitch as liquid fell from his hole, and smiled a little at the four Krum men who were already hard and stroking their black-pubed dicks, grinning wide. Jesper gulped, sighed, and leaned against Mogens, who started tongue-fucking his ear. “ _Good boy.”_

When the first Krum man put heavy hands on his hips and thrust his cock into him, Jesper arched his back, and Mogens took the opportunity to suck hard at his throat.


End file.
